Broken Arrows
by drippingredrose13
Summary: Eh, bored, again. Became obsessed after I rewatched the movies. On an ill fated night, a girl falls asleep in the forest, to awake to an entirely new world the next day. I don't own Lord of the Rings!
1. Chapter 1

I was a loner. Sure, I had many friends, but they were all more like acquaintances. They were people to sit with at lunch, and people to ask for homework when I missed school. But none of them really were what I would call friends. I couldn't share anything that happened with them. So no one came and visited me when I was in the hospital.

No one called me to ask if I was okay. Not like it would matter anyways. I wouldn't have remembered any of them.

This story starts one cold night. I had decided to go out for a walk. My mom and I had gotten in a fight, again. This was the third time this week. She wanted me to get together with people. I said that it was a bother, and didn't want to. But the real reason was because I didn't have anyone I really wanted to talk to. No one understood me.

I felt constantly like I had been born in the wrong time, the wrong era. Seeing all of the machinery and advertisements that surrounded me, didn't feel right. I wasn't meant to be here. How do you explain that to people, much less expect them to understand it?

The only things that I took pleasure in were my archery lessons and the woods. I was quite good at shooting. Best in my class of nationally renowned people, I still felt no need to try very hard. It was the one thing that came naturally to me.

I walked away from my house, and into the woods that surrounded my home. We lived pretty much in the middle of nowhere. I had to drive several miles into the city, just to go to school.

But today I could tell that someone was different. It was Halloween night, and there was a full moon. That alone was different. I always felt…strange on Halloween night, particularly when the moon was at its brightest. It made me feel more powerful, like an unearthly being. Several times, when I was younger, I had sworn that I could have flown.

I stalked through the forest, the moon casting eerie shadows through ought the forest. The wind sang softly through the creaky branches of the old willow trees. Despite the cold and the dark, I felt safe. The forest was never unkind to me. My mother had always told me of the people who went in and never came back out, or of the creeping beasts that lay, waiting to strike, to sink their teeth into young flesh at the first opportunity. But I never heeded her warnings. The forest had become my haven, my safe house years ago.

I heard thunder rumble in the distance. The storm was coming, and traveling faster than I would have thought. I had heard about it earlier, on the radio. It was supposed to be of enormous proportions. I knew that it wasn't safe for me to be out so far with this monster coming my way, but I didn't care. I was still angry with my mother.

Suddenly, there was another crash, and it began to rain, hard and fast, like bullets falling from the sky. It was icy cold, and it hurt, stung like bees. I quickly took cover under a tall, old oak. I hadn't expected to be out in the forest this late, so I wasn't dressed in my usual garb. I only wore a thin white shirt (it had been warmer, earlier in the day), my tight green cargo pants, and a pair of my favorite brown lace up boots. No jacket to protect me from the rain.

Sighing, I made myself comfortable under the tree. The ground was hard, but I had slept here many nights, so I would be able to make do. The sound of the rain in the trees was soothing. Moments later, I was fast asleep.

* * *

><p>When I awoke, I could tell that something had changed, dramatically. The air was warmer, and there was no wetness on the ground around me. There was no sign that it had rained last night. The tree that I had taken shelter under last night was smaller, not as vast as I remembered it. I sat up slowly, a little stiff from spending the night on the forest floor. The birdcalls sounded…different.<p>

There was a noise, at first almost inaudible to my ears, that rapidly grew louder and I stiffened as I realized what it was. Hoof beats. No horses ever traveled through this forest. Almost no one came in here, even if it was to avoid their parents. No one except me. And definitely, not _horses_.

They got closer and closer. There were definitely quite a few of them. I couldn't move. I was frozen with fear. What if this is a stampede, a whole herd? They would over run me, and I would be crushed, trampled into a bloody mess, nothing left but a smear on the forest floor. I closed my eyes. It was upon me.

I could hear the scream of a horse, and feel the _woosh _of warm air that came panting out from its nostrils. This horse had been running for quite a long time. The others clattered to a halt behind this one, their scream renting the air. I kept my eyes tightly shut.

Now that they were closer, I could hear the clink of reins, and here someone speak to their horse in a soft voice. I finally risked opening my eyes.

The bright sun blinded me for a moment, and I was unable to see anything except vague silhouettes. I judged it to be about midday. I had slept for quite a long time.

As my vision began to come in to focus, I could make out one of the figures in front of me dismount, and stride softly towards me. The figure said something in a strange language, something that I had never heard before. It sounded fluid, like Italian or perhaps French, and yet, I was sure that it was neither of those.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I don't speak…"

"Ah, you speak common tongue." The man crouched down next to me and helped me to my feet. I could see his face clearly now. He was peculiar, not like any person my age that I had ever seen before. But he was undoubtedly beautiful. I suddenly found myself left breathless, gazing into his stunning eyes. His hair was long, and blond, braided intricately along the sides probably to keep it out of his face. His chin was well sculpted, almost regal, and yet he had a slightly playful, carefree air about him. His voice was lilting and soft, but I was suddenly on my guard.

"I speak English, if that's what you mean." I was wary of these people, despite his beauty. No one had ever come through these woods before.

"I have no heard it called such a thing before," He mused, "Where are you from, and what is your business in Rivendell?"

I was confused, "What do you mean, Rivendell? This is…" But as I studied him closely, I became aware in the difference of him garb. He was clad in leather boots, and some form of tunic, belted at the waist. But what disturbed and excited me most was the bow and quiver of arrows that were slung nonchalantly over his back.

My gaze turned to the company with him. There were nine in all. Four appeared to be small, childlike to my eyes. Three were taller, older perhaps. And then there was him. All of them sported some sort of weapon; a broadsword, arrows, knives, shorter swords. And the all wore cloaks and the like. They all looked like… people from a different time.

Suddenly my stomach was seized with dread. I looked around briefly, back towards where the path to my home would be. It was nowhere to be seen.

I had a feeling that I wasn't in Kansas anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

I was astonished. I had, many a time, dreamed of somehow falling out of my time and place, into somewhere else, anywhere else. And now, I was sure, it had finally happened.

"What is your business here in Rivendell?" the man asked again. I could see that the rest of his company was on edge. On one them, whom I had barely glanced over before, reached towards the axe that lay ready on his lap. He seemed ready to strike me at the first possible sign that I was a threat to them.

"I…uh…I'm…" I stuttered, then blushed. They were all staring at me like I had lost my mind.

"Why is she dressed like a man?" asked one of the little people whom I had mistaken as children. I had to laugh a little at that.

"You want to know the truth? I have no idea what I'm doing here. I fell asleep in a forest near my home, which I have a feeling is quite far away from here. This is what everyone wears at home. I don't know how I arrived here, but when I woke up, here I was. So please, someone, if you can pause my interrogation for a few moments and tell me where I am?" I begged.

One of the men, the one with the darker hair, glanced towards the old man among their group. "Her words have the ring of truth," He mused, "perhaps it was Sauramon that brought her hear. One thing is certain, it was definitely magic the caused you to be transported here." His gaze turned inward, and he appeared to be deep in thought. He didn't speak for several more moments.

"Who are you?" I asked. If they were going to ask me so many questions, and puzzle over my predicament, then I figured that I should at least know their names. The man with the dark hair answered me this time.

"I am known by many names, Strider among them. This is Gimli of Glóin , Legolas of Mirkwood, Peregrin Took, Samwise Gamgee, Frodo Baggins, Meridoc Brandybuck, Gandalf the Gray, and Boramir of Gondor. And you are?" he gestured towards me with his eyebrows raised.

"I am… Nawae." For some reason, I didn't trust them enough to give them my real name. Instead, I decided that I would use one that had been a character in some of my stories long ago. I would become Nawae, for now, until I could figure out what I was doing here and how I got here. And what exactly "here" was.

"If she was brought here by Sauramon, then we must look after her. She might have something of value. Perhaps we will be able to use that to our advantage." Gandalf muttered, his brow creasing in concentration, "we shall bring her with us!" he announced to the group. Boromir gave him a look of stark disbelief, which did not pass unnoticed. "You have something against this, Boromir?" Gandalf fixed him with a scrutinizing look. His cheeks reddened slightly, but then he returned to what I assumed was his traditional haughty look.

"You cannot be serious Gandalf!" he managed to keep a moderately respectful tone towards the old man, while appearing skeptical, "She is but a woman! She would be nothing but a burden to the fellowship. We have an important task to accomplish. A woman would only slow us down. Why, she has no weapons! How would she defend herself, unless we were to do it for her? The Orcs would kill her in an instant!" he leaned back in his saddle, apparently quite satisfied with himself, convinced that he had persuaded the others to leave me behind. Not if I had any say in it. These people appeared to know where they were going, and that was good enough for me. Especially if the blond young man was going with them. I blushed slightly at the thought.

"I can fight." I said. I didn't like Boromir. There was something about him that I didn't trust, something that made him seem like one of the corrupt politicians that I always saw on TV. He seemed like he could turn against the rest of them any second. I wouldn't let him put me down like that.

Boromir looked taken aback. Apparently it's unusual for a woman to be able to defend herself.

"What is you weapon?" Strider asked, after a period of silence.

"Bow and arrow." I held my head high under the scrutinizing gazes of the men.

"A woman fighting in war. What madness is this?" Boromir muttered under his breath.

"Where I come from, it is rare that women do not fight for themselves. Every woman wants to be able to defend herself from the evils of the world. And there are many dangers. Although," I added, "probably not the same kind you have here. Wherever here is."

A long moment of silence greeted me as they absorbed my words. Legolas smiled slightly.

"You will never fit in here, wearing that," Gandalf said, with a smile on his face. I was grateful for the change of subject. "You might be able to find some clothes to make you…fit in."

"What's wrong with my clothes?" I asked looking self-consciously down at myself. I wasn't dressed like a slut, like most of the other girls at my school did. Which I now was eternally grateful for.

"You will draw to much attention to yourself. If you are to travel with us, you will need to be quite discreet."

I eventually agreed to change, but refused the very idea of a dress. Instead, I adopted the tunic that many of the others were wearing, cinching it at my waist with a leather belt, and traded my jeans for a pair of soft green leggings. I kept my boots. They were much more hardy them the ones that were offered to me, and they fit much better. When it was done, I looked as if I had lived in this strange world all of my life.


	3. Chapter 3

We began our journey. I was constantly amazed at how beautiful this place was. We rode through forests, like the woods near my home, but they felt different. They felt alive. I could almost hear the trees and plants whispering to each other, spreading the news around the land in some forgotten language.

As we traveled, I began to learn more about my new companions. The little folk, whom I had assumed were children at first, were Halflings know as Hobbits. They spoke frequently of a place known as the Shire, which I supposed to be their home. They missed it terribly, especially the one called Sam. I could see it in their eyes. A sort of hollowness that was one part longing and two parts fear. But when I questioned them as to why they left, and what they were doing away from the Shire, I received nothing in return except dark glances.

I enjoyed the company of Merry and Pippen. They were those kind of people… Hobbits, that you couldn't spend to much time alone with, simply because they eventually became unbearably annoying. They were the most lighthearted of the group, dancing and singing around the campfire at night, while the others looked on and laughed.

The other two hobbits were something of a puzzle to me. Sam was rather quite, and I got the impression that he was generally pretty meek. But I liked him nonetheless. He was the one who did most of the cooking, during the few times that we did stop for meals. He whipped up delicious confections out of the few ingrediants that they had brought with them.

Lastly, was the hobbit called Frodo. He seldom spoke, even when spoken to directly. His mind often seemed to be far, far away than where we were. He seemed to my eyes…old, as though he had seem more than his share of suffering in a short stretch of time. It puzzled me, how his kind (from what I could tell of the other hobbits on our journey) were generally quite free spirited. He was the abnormalty. Well, there's an exception to every rule, I thought.

My other companions were less difficult to read than Frodo. Boromir was contemptuous, towards me anyways. It was obvious that he disproved of women in general. He existed soully for two purposes; to fight in battle, and bring glory to his country, Gondor, which he mentioned almost in every sentence. Gandalf was a kindly old man, but I could sense the hidden power the radiated from him. I liked him. He seemed to be like a father towards Frodo, and I caught them both talking on more than one occasion. For Aragorn, I had not much to say, but he seemed to be more used to roughing it then the other members of the group, but I sensed something regal about him, perhaps in the way he held himself and commanded others about. Gimili was quite the complainer, but I enjoyed his constant rivalry with Legolas.

Legolas was…quote different then anyone I had ever met before. Yes, he was more beautiful than any human I had ever seen, but it was more (I learned only later that he was, in fact, inhuman. An elf. Even then, I was not surprised. I had come to grips with this strange place). It was the way that he seemed so still, and peaceful, but was on his guard constantly.

I talked to him more than the others. It began on one of the brighter days, when the sun was shining, and the leaves cast dappled patterns on the forest floor. A soft wind stirred through the branches, swishing and swaying them back and forth. It calmed me. For a few moments, I thought I was back home, alone in the woods.

"I can almost hear the trees today," I muttered to myself. On a rare occasion, I would almost feel like they would speak to me, if I were only to listen closely.

"Hear the trees?" I jumped suddenly as a voice interrupted my thoughts. I spun around to see Legolas standing there, a soft smile on his face. I blushed. I hadn't realized that I had spoken out loud.

"I…sometimes, I feel like…when the wind whispers through the trees, like it somehow helps them to find their voice. I feel like they speak in some form of old language that is no longer known to anyone. It makes me sad." I bowed my head slightly, "I feel like they have so many stories to tell, but no one to listen." I don't know what made me tell him all of this. Many would think me crazy or strange. But instead he simply looked at me.

"There are fewer and fewer men who believe that the forest lives." He stared up at the trees, their patterns washing across his face. "But you're right. It lives and breathes and speaks, but only to those who listen." He turned to stare at me again. "I have never met one who hears the forest like you do."

I smiled softly, my cheeks reddening more noticeably. He made me self-conscience, the way he looked at me, though I knew I had little to hide. There was a still momentas we looked at each other for a little longer. Hesitently, he reached up towards my face, and brushed away a strand of my long auburn hair that had drifted into my face.

As soon as he made contact with my skin, I felt my pulse begin to race, and a rush of blood went to my face, staining my already rosy cheeks a dark red. I could feel tingles where his hands had touched my skin. We stared at each other.

Then the voice of Aragorn brought me back into the present, shouting something. We both whipped our heads around.

**Hi guys, I'm sorry for the slow updates, but I have terrible writes block. Suggestions?**


	4. Chapter 4

Aragorn walked up to us. I stepped quickly away from Legolas, still blushing. I was embarrassed that I had told him that. I didn't understand why I did it. I hardly knew him. If I had told anyone back home they would have simply laughed in my face, thinking that I was screwing with them, or given me strange looks. But he seemed to take me seriously. Even more, he seemed to understand, and even share my feelings. That was a rare occurrence, especially for me.

I had only been with this strange group for very few days, but already I felt a sense of home. I embraced the woods and the forests with open arms, welcoming the soft sunlight and the clean, crisp air. Everything here was slower than at home. There were no cars desperately racing to get from place to place. Here, there was time to pause and admire the patterns that the sunlight cast through the leaves of the trees.

"Beware," he said softly, so that no one but I could hear, "Should we encounter anyone, do not speak to them. Do not tell them your name, or where you are from. These are dark times. They would most likely assume that you are a spy of Sauram's." His eyes met my gaze, but he gave no reply to my unspoken question. He turned abruptly and strode away.

I stood there, confused for several moments. There seemed to be greater forces at work around me then I had observed at first.

I was now beginning to realize, though, that for the first time in a very long time, I didn't feel lost. True, I didn't know where I was, but that was not the type of lost I meant. I could wander around this world forever, never knowing exactly where I was, perfectly content. I felt like I had I had been missing for very long, and for some reason, in this new place, I had found myself. I didn't feel quite so out of place.

With a contented smile on my face, I ran to catch up with them, the music of the trees echoing in my ears.

**I apologize for the short chapter. More to follow. Hope you enjoyed it!**


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